


Mama Doesn't Love You

by LegendaryDonut



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6238105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendaryDonut/pseuds/LegendaryDonut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all this time, he gets to see their faces again. Why are they crying? Why is she laughing? This is a time for celebration: he gets to taste his mother...'s delicious food again!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mama Doesn't Love You

Life is filled with decisions. Every twist and turn of a human’s life is a journey of choices. To turn left or to turn right? To read a book or to watch television? To weed the garden or to take a nap? To try hard or to give minimal effort? To laugh or to cry? To breathe or to suffocate? To do or to not?

 

To live or to die?

 

Life its very self is a decision. The biggest, toughest, grandest choice of all.

 

“Choose.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

To be neutral is unacceptable. An indecisive person will never succeed. Choosing one thing or the other is necessary. There are no ‘ifs’, ‘ands’, or ‘buts.’ That is simply the way of life, to decide.

 

“This one or that one?”

 

“Neither.”

 

That is not an option. Neutrality equates to ultimate failure in this twisted world. Choose.

 

“Both?”

 

“No.”

 

Choose life or death or miss your chance. The choice will never be easy, but it will seem all too heavy weighing upon your mind. It’s a simple choice. Simplicity is not easy. Life is not easy.

 

“Choose.”

 

“No....”

 

Choose.

 

I can’t.

 

Choose.

 

It’s unfair.

 

Choose.

 

Why me?

 

Choose or lose.

 

If I choose, I will be freed?

 

Choose between life or death.

 

Will I be happy?

 

Choose.

 

I choose.

 

　

Breathless, irritatingly high-pitched shrieks were the only sounds the female human was capable of creating, it seemed. Skin that had once been a smooth golden hue had dissolved into a sheet of gleaming ashen, riddled with tiny bumps and vibrating ruthlessly. The girl’s face was the very definition of terror and it was beautiful.

 

The witness of the shocking scene laid out on the cold concrete floor smiled. It was a smile hidden beneath a mask, the most heinous twist of a set of full lips. Layers of bandages tightly encased the woman’s face, revealing her features only as shadowed indents, clearly showing off her happily squinted eyes and crescent-curved mouth. Her legs were tucked comfortably underneath her body, dainty cloth-bound legs veiled by her dress skirt splayed across the floor. Folded hands lying in her small lap displayed lax enjoyment.

 

Assuredly, the faceless, girlish figure seated there was enjoying the scenery. She considered it entertainment indeed. On one hand, an artist’s mind such as hers had dabbled in this exact tragedy more than once in her written works.

 

A true, lovely tragedy. It sent chills down her spine, how flawlessly played out it was. It was as though characters known only as words across paper had miraculously come to life before her very eyes, as though she had used her own fingers to draw the hunched figure that knelt in the middle of the room. It was glorious. She felt a special amount of pride watching the life she had tampered with for so long become the masterpiece it now was. She was the greatest author in the whole world, she gleefully thought to herself, smile stretching wider.

 

That ‘experiment’ she had come to adore had been worth her time, it seemed. It had ripened to the perfect flavor-- her favorite flavor: insanity and despair. It made her masked mouth water.

 

Not to be forgotten, of course, the loudmouthed human girl exhaled shakily. She had been frozen in place for the majority of the session, but now she finally gathered the watery willpower to inch backward, away from the scene her wide dark eyes were locked onto. The mighty author’s shoulders jostled in a silent chuckle as she viewed the young human’s movements drawing the attention of her beloved science experiment. Her _owl._

 

For a short time, her pet had carried the delicious aura of true madness, and it couldn’t have made his ‘mistress’ happier. She had laughed aloud alongside him, that wonderful screech of abandonment. Abandonment of hope. Abandonment of love. Abandonment of self. Abandonment of everything he had once upon a time held dear. It was an exhilarating moment of triumph and development. However, all good things must come to an end. With the human girl’s scream, he had broken out of his glorious trance. Regardless, what was done was done.

 

Eto couldn’t be more pleased while she watched her plaything stare with emotionless eyes at the shivering girl before him. Gone was the delightful grin marring his pale face, replaced by a much more boring frown with slightly parted lips. If one looked discerningly enough, there was a hint of puzzled shock in that drawn expression. Judging by his unfocused gaze, many gears were turning in that disjointed mind. The author noted to herself that the fact he could process his surroundings at all was an achievement. He wasn’t too far gone.

 

The human girl’s measly chest was rising and falling like spasms rather than breaths. It was oh, so _tragic_ the way her eyes were locked on her dear brother’s face.

 

Try as she might, Eto couldn’t reign in the flutter of giggles. _Beautiful tragedy._

 

The sister forced to watch her loved one’s demise from a front seat view. His downfall would have been shocking to anyone human with a good soul such as hers, but being related by blood and _family love_ made it all the more enjoyable. Enough time had passed to allow the human to regain control over her thoughts, resulting in the flood of tears and the despaired expression on her face. What other reaction would one have?

 

Watching their beloved mother die before their eyes, after all.

 

Laughably enough, her devolved sibling didn’t appear nearly as grief-stricken. Not even as his blank gaze sunk from the girl’s face to the pool of crimson he knelt in. The pool still yet held a face. The red-handed one only stared into it, though, refusing to give in to buried emotion just yet. Soon, but not yet. Eto could tangibly anticipate the _tears._

 

With that, the bandaged woman leapt gracefully to her feet. Hands tucked innocently behind her back, she walked on her tiptoes closer to the monster and the human.

 

“You chose.” The author’s voice was smiling.

 

Neither her pet nor his one-man audience responded.

 

Eto leaned down with cheerfulness and extended a hand to pat his head. She received no acknowledgment yet. “This was a big step for you,” she continued. “You’ve exceeded expectation!”

 

Finally, his dirty red lips trembled with the effort of forcing words. His voice was horribly scratchy, “I chose...?” and trailed off in a frail question. Too frail. It only made Eto sneer.

 

“You did. Look.” She gestured softly toward the human, who managed to flinch at the elder woman’s sudden attention. Eto lowered her face closer to her motionless subject, tone low when she spoke into his ear. “Do you recognize that person?”

 

The boy’s eyelids fluttered in a feeble attempt to focus on the aforementioned girl, his cute long lashes clumped with sticky blood. Eyebrows drawn a bit, he stared, causing the little human’s jaw to tighten with fear.

 

“Do you see how she cries?” the mistress murmured. “Do you know why? Do you understand?”

 

Of course he didn’t. In this current state, he probably couldn’t differentiate a fly from a cat. Mind was too muddled with the _understandable_ trauma. Eto’s hand atop his head rustled his hair. During her pause to let him try to comprehend her barrage of questions, she admired her work. The strands of hair slipping over and under her thin fingers were greasy and stringy, made up of a summer brown and dirty white, thanks to her handiwork. His face was awfully gaunt and deathly white, but painted with an alluring red that dripped down his nose and chin. Watching his expressionless features become slightly pained made the almighty author lift her eyes from his visage at last.

 

“She loved you, you know. Did you know that?” Soothing, she petted his head. “Do you know what else she loved?”

 

Her pet was beginning to pay more attention, as he even glanced up at her face and offered the slightest shake of the head. Poor thing.

 

“She loved that.”

 

Eto’s nod to the floor brought the boy’s detached gaze back to his _dinner’s_ leftovers. It had made quite the mess, but the cleaning crew would be happy to deal with this later. A human sized puddle of wretched red liquid that still soaked into the ratty pants of her pet that knelt in it. An arm here. A hand there. A leg tossed aside. A visceral _disaster._ What naturally drew the most attention in the midst of the carnage was a perfectly intact...head.

 

His deadened eyes rested heavily on it, not so much as blinking for fear of breaking the trance.

 

“How was it?” The session continued. This set of questions and mind games weren’t alien to the masked woman. She was skilled in this art of torment, that much was evident in the result that stared her in the face. “Was it tasty? Was it the most delicious thing you’ve ever, ever tasted?”

 

Her sing-song tone drew his focus to greater heights. He was unconsciously leaning closer to her, growing off balance and swaying. Reddened mouth still hanging open just slightly, bloodshot eyes visibly becoming weighted, the sweet boy’s head nodded. A sleepy nod, as if under a spell. It was adorable. Mistress ran her fingers through her pet’s hair.

 

A grin in her words, Eto pushed on through the girl child’s soft but increasing sobs nearby. “I’m so happy you enjoyed. I’ll be sure to bring you another....”

 

Gentle and deliberate. So very much like the mother that had once held her child. A bandaged hand ran down her prey’s tattered shirt, down over his arched back, feeling over every bump in his spine. The hand laid over his hair gingerly guided his head, and it was willing to follow, against her chest. A mother’s embrace she held him in. One he let his ragged body sink into with such gullible relief.

 

“Let go...of him....” Eto smiled at the wobbly whisper beside her. The girl was smart, even if she didn’t look it. For a human, she had resisted considerably against Eto’s wishes, screaming, kicking, and biting. It was refreshing. It seemed even now she retained that spirit.

 

On her hands and knees, trembling uncontrollably, thinning tears still slipping from her eyes, the human had gathered the strength to glare at her brother’s capture. Humans were incredible.

 

Eto didn’t have time to reply before the pet in her arms breathed another forced set of words. “Why is she crying?” His dull gray eyes were aimed fleetingly at the girl, and Eto noticed how blatantly she tried to ignore him. Failed, but tried, as another tear fell when she blinked.

 

To give her plaything the privilege of an answer, the author slipped a hand beneath his chin and lifted it to look into his face. “You’ve made her very sad, you see,” she stated simply, bluntly even.

 

“How come...?”

 

“You killed her mother.”

 

No reaction, not even a bat of the eye.

 

“Her mother was all she had left.”

 

Her pet owl’s face revealed nothing whatsoever, but Eto felt it; his breath caught. She was digging deeply, and her psychological pickaxe was striking close to his heart. Another swing or two and it would bleed.

 

Eto’s own heart skipped a beat at the enticing thought.

 

“Her mother was kind, wasn’t she?” The masked woman cast an unnoticed glance at the human that was beginning to dissolve once again, head slowly lowering, wet eyes gradually closing. Say it wasn’t so. Surely the girl had more spirit than this. “She was the only shoulder that girl had left to lean on. Do you realize why, pet?”

 

A barely perceptible shake of the boy’s head atop his mistress’s collarbone. It was sweet how naturally he laid his head on her, so comforted by her fake motherly aura. Her wrapped hand slid down his sweat-soaked neck.

 

A moment’s hesitation, for dramatic effect, of course. The smile that stretched the silky pale skin of the female ghoul’s face was almost painful in its wideness.

 

In a whisper that wormed its way through the tormented soul’s ear that rested so dangerously close to her jaws, “Because you abandoned her.”

 

The silence. The long stretch of blackness that filled the voiceless room. The shadowy claws that gripped one’s lungs and stopped all signs of breath and life. The silence was so tangible.

 

The silence. It was a fog of sheer _terror_.

 

The boy’s pulse was pressed against her midriff. Once, it had been weak and helpless. It now jumped about sporadically, bouncing off his fragile ribcage and wracking his sickly form. She could hear his teeth begin to chatter.

 

_Unravel, pet. Let my fingers slip through your threads. I’ll hold tightly to you, my marionette._

 

**Author's Note:**

> First published story on this site...hope you like it! This was for sure a spur of the moment fic, so I apologize for any OOC-ness or plot holes or anything of the sort. Feel free to offer constructive criticism.
> 
> Hopefully this is the start of more fanfictions to come! Thank you for reading!


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